


Letters to, from, or pertaining to: Newton Scamander

by gayforroxane



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Injured Newt, epistolary mostly, get together?, healing percival, its pretty lowkey percival/newt sorry, recovering from Grindelwald, scarred newt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-09
Updated: 2017-02-09
Packaged: 2018-09-23 01:25:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9634601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gayforroxane/pseuds/gayforroxane
Summary: one written by the secretary of a commanding officer, detached and standardizedone written by a concerned colleagueone written to an old professor, caught in the throws of a fever and a life-threatening injurythe last written by a tentative and healing man with a thank you





	

He is not a clean-skinned man.

Where his skin is full of freckles, it is also full of scars. The young occamies have given him scars on his hands, tiny outlets of tiny teeth. An encounter with an angry phoenix left him with a mark like knotted wood up high on his right shoulder, the edge of it just reaching to his collarbones. It burns when he exposes it to sunlight. The worst of his scars, however, come from his dragons.

During his time on the Eastern Front, working with Ukrainian Ironbellies, he receives no less than nineteen scars. The first few are small, claws caught in loose skin on his arms and back and (on one memorable occasion) high up on his thigh. There are some that are slightly larger, in riskier areas – closer to his heart and throat and femoral artery. Whispers flood through the camp, of Theseus Scamander’s younger brother, a man with a pain kink, but a genuine smile.

In 1918, Newt receives a wound that leads to the anxious writing of letters.

The first is written by the secretary of Bartholomew Thames, Newt’s commanding officer. The letter is not sent.

_Regret to inform you Newton Scamander, killed in action, Germany February, 1918_

The second is written by Martin Charterine, friend and assistant to Newt, and friend and fellow soldier to Theseus. The letter is sent on February 13th, 1918.

_My Dear Theseus, It’s been a long time since we spoke – weeks, perhaps months. The last letter I posted to you never arrived, or you never saw fit to answer, a judgement I do not blame you for making. My letters are often rambling, but this one I urge you to read._

_Your brother has injured himself once more, but this time I find no reason to laugh, only reasons for shame._

_He and I were tending to the dragons, early in the morning three days ago, before the rest of the camp had awoken. As usual, he had received no sleep, choosing instead to write, and spoke quicker than usual, stuttering over his words. We were feeding the mother Ironbelly – a creature of nearly four tons – when I took a step in the wrong direction, moving towards her nest instead of away from it. On instinct, she reacted, drawing both wings back and flashing her talons to strike. I prepared for the blow, and found myself in the grass, unharmed, as Newt pushed me aside. He had taken my place, moving into the attack of a vengeful Ironbelly for my sake. The mother always favoured Newt over me – as many of our creatures do – but wasn’t fast enough to withdraw her own strike. He was caught with the first few centimeters of her talons, despite her best efforts to prevent it from happening._

_I believe the rest of the camp heard his screams, but the blood he lost in those moments was enough to worry even our oldest medics. He bares four evenly-spaced lacerations, stretching from his ribs to his upper thigh, as well as four broken ribs and a fractured femur on the other side._

_I do not wish to worry you with the tidings I bring, Theseus, but I wish for you to know how grateful I am to your brother, and how indebted I am to him and your family. He saved my life, and I am not the healer who may be able to save his. If I do not have the chance to tell your brother, I wished to tell you, Theseus._

_Cordially Yours, Martin Charterine_

The last letter comes from Newt, to Professor Dumbledore. Though he does not write the letter, the words come from his mouth, quiet and rasping, peppered with coughs and too much blood. Edith Highwayman writes the letter for him, on the 22nd of February, 1918. It is tear-stained.

_He begins with an apology. He reminiscences on the day he was expelled, and the weeks before that, when you defended him so readily, despite knowing that it was Leta who ought to be in trouble and not him. He is so grateful that you allowed his lie. (Newt Mr. Scamander is now considering the possibility that you simply liked him, but did not know about Leta. We are waiting for him to stop making excuses to a figment we cannot see). Now he begs his request. It is both simple and eternally complicated. Ensure that the Ukrainian Ironbelly who attacked him (“In defense of her children!” He shouts. “You would have done the same, Professor, if it had been me.”) is not harmed. He swears she does not deserve it. He falls into a deep sleep almost immediately after._

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_Mr. Scamander asked me to write this letter for him, though he passes in and out of fever haze that makes translating his tongue is difficult. Our healers fear he has few days left to live, after a severe attack by a Ukrainian Ironbelly. I know that you were are close to him, if his fevered ramblings over the past few days are even close to the truth, and I can only hope that if he is to die, you will do what he asks. I can do nothing but sob at his request, Professor. He is a man so selfless that his final words may be those of defense of the beast that brought his death. I apologize for the tears, for the errors in grammar and formality, but Newt has taught me all I know about magical creatures. He is why I love them. He is why the world changed for me, why it has become brighter, even in times of war._

_To see a world devoid of Newt Scamander is a world I will find very cold indeed._

_Sincerely, Edith Highwayman,_

_sixth year student of Hogwarts_

Theseus never receives the letter.

Dumbledore receives it, but never replies. He hopes that his slight talent for foresight will not fail him, that the vision he had of Newt many years older than his youth, weathered with wrinkles and grey hair is a true one. He does not want to bury another student in this war.

There are, of course, other letters sent to Newt Scamander over the following eight years. Letters pertaining to work or reminders to attend to something or another, news from other carers for magical creatures in and out of the country. There is the occasional letter from Professor Dumbledore. 

On April 7th, 1927, Newt receives a letter from a Mr. Percival Graves, head of MACUSA's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. 

_Mr. Scamander,_

_I wished to thank you._

_Though I know we have never formally met, and that the occasions upon which we have been in contact with one another have been uncomfortable for you, and false for me. Gellert Grindelwald kept me hidden within a pocketwatch for nearly a year. Please, do not take this statement as a means of pitying me, Mr. Scamander. I already have enough of that in the guilty faces of my aurors everyday. It is simply a statement of fact, a recital of events._

_Though you may not be aware of it, you played a vital role in finding me. Your suggestion to Madam President Picquery that I may still be alive, even recommending several magical creatures for the job, is what encouraged to consider the possibility in the first place._

_Thank you, Mr. Scamander, for ending a time of difficult constitution._

_I find myself searching for the correct way to phrase this, to say it without seeming presumptuous, or rude. I can find no way other than this: the next time you are in New York, Mr. Scamander, I invite you to seek me out at MACUSA. The charges against you have been lifted and your case of magical creatures given sanctuary against our law. Please do not abuse this, Mr. Scamander, the President is already irritated with my persistent insistence of its implementation. If you wish to meet me - though I cannot imagine you would after everything that conspired between yourself and Grindelwald while he was impersonating me - please do not hesitate to find me._

_I... would like very much to meet you, Mr. Scamander, to give you my thank you in person._

_Indebted, and cordially yours,_

_Percival Graves_

 

Percival Graves does not receive in response in the form of a letter. 

On June 21st, he walks into his office to find a man with gold-red hair sitting on his desk, a brown leather suitcase at his feet. He has a bright blue coat wrapped around his shoulders, scuffed brown boots on his feet, a soft purple bow-tie around his neck and Percival Graves spends a few moments staring. His skin is littered with freckles and a blush. His eyes are huge and green and warm in the white light of his office. 

"Newt Scamander, Mr. Graves," he says, jumping off his desk and moving towards him in a hunched over kind of stumble. A grin stretches his mouth wide. 

"Percival, please," he says, absently, taking the hand Mr. Scamander extends towards him. 

"Newt," he smiles, hands warm and dry in his. 

Percival blinks and tries to remember the last time he allowed someone to call him by his first name. Though Seraphina has called him Percival for years, Tina and Queenie and Mr. Kowalski are the only ones who call him that, and it still brings him discomfort. It doesn't bother him to allow Newt to call him that. 

He lets a smile spread across his face. Newt's blush brightens, the hand in his going slack. Percival's smiles takes on a slightly wicked edge. Gripping Newt's hand he draws it slowly closer, pulling the younger man closer to him. 

"Newt," he says. The other man blinks. 

"Yes, P-Percival?" A smile paints his face. 

"How do you take your tea?" 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hOLY SHIT three works in three days i am goddamn fire  
> anyways, lemme know what you think. come and bother me on tumblr blue-by-auster or don't whichever. 
> 
> have a great day, lovelies.  
> xx mads


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